A grandfather clock, a family of bluebirds, and a lifelong friend

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… 

It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” 

-- C.S. Lewis                          

  

As I sit in the dining room of my best friend Dawn's home, I am thinking about the value of a friendship that has withstood the test of time -- the test of new friends coming and going, of divorce, widowhood, single motherhood, getting back in the dating game, remarriage, step-children, new careers. The list could go on and on. For 50 years, Dawn and I have been there for each other. 

As I listen to the birds flocking to Dawn's menagerie of bird feeders outside, the grandfather clock in the living room chimes, a lovely reminder of the love her grandpa had for her grandma as he crafted it for her as a wedding gift oh so many years ago. A Van Gogh print hangs on the wall behind me and simple, but elegant furnishings surround me.

I've been here since Friday. Today, Dawn and her husband rose early and headed to work. I am alone.

This house has become a haven for me during this time of transition as I've been forced to face the rest of my life without my mother. Since Mom's death in January, I've made multiple trips to my hometown of Manheim, Pennsylvania to tend to the multitude of things one must deal with when their parents are gone but the family home is not. My sisters, niece, nephew and my own kids live in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, NYC, Binghamton, Washington (PA), and Pittsburgh. No one lives here. So when we merge on our childhood home for time together (of work, laughter, memories, and tears), there isn't enough room for all of us to sleep in the three-bedroom house where we grew up.

That's why, while they're all dealing with a chaotic morning of the little ones' energy spurts (they're four, three, and two) and the baby's demands (and five-week-old Marley has been quite demanding), I am spending the early part of my day in the peaceful oasis Dawn calls 'home.' I don't want to leave.

As I made my tea this morning, I watched out the window as a family of bluebirds took turns visiting the feeder filled with meal worms. Happiness? Yep.

Perhaps, as C.S. Lewis said, friendship isn't necessary. But I sure wouldn't want to try to survive without it.

Sharing my Monday morning thoughts with you,

Hana

I married a Gravity HIll atheist





Jesus Laughing painting by Ralph Kozak



Switched things up a bit this week and decided to honor the Sabbath on Saturday instead of Sunday. Well, at least as far as not working goes.

My husband, Bill, and I drove out Rt. 30 E from Pittsburgh to Bedford, PA to meet my best friend, Dawn, and her husband, Scott, who traveled about the same distance on the turnpike from Lancaster County, PA. We antiqued, shopped, talked and laughed. My how we laughed! In the evening, we enjoyed a nice dinner before heading in opposite directions to our homes. I hated saying 'goodbye.'

Dawn and I are nearing our 50th anniversary as best friends, a distinction not shared by many. Throughout my life, Dawn has been my biggest supporter, affirming my choices, drying my tears, celebrating my accomplishments and always, always, building me up. When I see myself through Dawn's eyes, I can do remarkable things!

One thing we decided to do while in Bedford, was to drive the 12 or 13 miles to experience something known as Gravity Hill. Located a short drive from Schellsburg, PA (where we had dinner), Gravity Hill is a Central PA attraction that has been drawing visitors for decades. But let me tell you, my hubby was not impressed, which made the trip all the more fun for Dawn, Scott and me as our laughter over Bill's Gravity Hill atheism was almost painful.

When you arrive at the spot on a narrow windy road marked with "G H" you stop, put your car in neutral and watch what happens. Depending on how you've positioned your car, it either starts headin uphill going forward or backward. This "defying gravity" action has stumped many, but not Bill, who adamently proclaimed we were going downhill the whole time.

I have an issue with that. If we were, indeed, going downhill, what's the attraction? Why would people drive from miles away to experience this if, in reality, there was nothing to experience?

Is it an optical illusion? I don't know. But Bill certainly believes it is. Party pooper. To quote him, "This was right up there with the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life."

All we could do was laugh at him.

Sometimes, more than needing a day of rest, what we really need is a hearty dose of laughter. I'm betting Jesus enjoyed a bit of humor with his closest friends from time to time. And on Sunday, I couldn't help but to thank Him for the gift of friendship, laughter, and a natural phenomenon in the mountains of this beautiful state of Pennsylvania known as Gravity Hill. I wonder if He laughed along with us.

Sharing my Sabbath experience,

Hana

The following post is a YouTube video of Gravity Hill. Maybe it will make you a true believer!